


Ghostly Touch

by Racey



Category: Bleach
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Swearing, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-17
Updated: 2011-06-17
Packaged: 2017-11-26 20:09:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/653959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Racey/pseuds/Racey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Has Ichigo's imagination run away with him, or is the intense love-making he's been experiencing real?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghostly Touch

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach...

Onwards...

XOXOXO

_Firm fingertips brushed over the skin of his inner thigh like a soft Summer night's breeze, making his legs tremble and his breath falter. Warm lips feathered against the tender flesh and slowly traveled up towards his rigid length, where they paused at his testicles, teasing and causing his back to arch anxiously._

_He couldn't wait anymore._

" _Hurry," he pleaded, his voice almost desperate, eyes half-lidded and hazy._

_His invisible lover chuckled, the deep timbre of his rough voice vibrating his nerve endings like a massage chair. "You sure?"_

_Oh, kami._

" _I'm positive," he whimpered, his fingers splaying before clenching the cotton fabric of his pale green sheets. "I need you."_

_There was a brief pause, silence stretching enough to nearly make him uncomfortable before his lover moved, the bed shifting slightly and the sheets rustling like a hoarse whisper. "As you wish, lover," he murmured._

_Wet heat engulfed his erection and his eyes slid shut as he threw his head back against his pillow and let free a loud groan. "Nnnnh."_

_His body shook and his hand burrowed into invisible but Tempur-pedic soft hair, tugging gently at the satiny strands as his lover growled deeply._

_Fuck, this was dangerous and all kinds of wrong, but he couldn't find it in himself to not encourage and enjoy the frequent nightly visits that had been occurring for a little over three months._

XOXOXO

"You sure you don't want a ride, Ichigo?" Rukia asked, looking over her petite, right shoulder, her left hand threaded through the hand of her boyfriend and Ichigo's best friend, Uryuu Ishida.

Ichigo paused his steps and shook his head. "Nah, I'm good, Rukia. Thanks."

Uryuu gave him a close look, his dark-blue eyes calculating and sharp as he pushed up his wire-framed glasses with a slim index finger. As if deciding that Ichigo was being truthful, he nodded. "Good night, Ichigo," he said, tenor clear and confident.

If Ichigo didn't know Uryuu better, he would think the man was being condescending and all-knowing, but since he did know the slender, dark-haired man, he knew otherwise. Uryuu was only being himself. Rukia nodded as well and waved, a warm smile creasing the corners of her mouth.

Ichigo waved back and started off in the opposite direction, headed for his apartment. The evening was nice, the wind barely there, a crescent moon shining in the sky amidst an inky blanket and twinkling stars. Ichigo shoved his hands into the pockets of his black, cargo shorts, his black and silver belt chain clanking noisily as he quickened his steps. He wore a black, sleeveless, zipper-less hoodie, black, fingerless gloves that exposed the backs of his hands and black, calf-length combat boots that were loosely tied. His bright orange hair was longer than his normal short, spiky style, streaked with black, covering his left eye and trailing down the back of his neck.

His friends called him emo, punk, gothic and grunge, but he didn't feel that he was any of those. Sure, he had a hoop through the left corner of his bottom lip, a rod through his right eyebrow, gauges in his lobes and industrial piercings through his upper ears, but he didn't think that that classified him as any one of the categories his friends tried to stick him in.

He just liked being different and being true to himself. He was usually in a dark mood, which caused him to dress in dark colors, mainly black and dark blue. Sometimes gray. Ichigo sighed and kicked at a stray pebble in his path. No one really understood him. Not his friends, not his younger sisters, who looked at him with various degrees of curiosity and wariness, and certainly not his old man, who didn't seem to understand anything that didn't scream and fight.

No one.

Except _him_.

Ichigo felt his ears go hot and his face tingle as his thoughts were dragged to the man of his dreams. Or rather, the man that his mind conjured during the lonely night hours to make love to him. His insides fluttered and his heart started racing. Thoughts of those invisible hands caressing him, those invisible lips kissing him, that invisible tongue licking him and that invisible mouth sucking him into oblivion, invaded his mind.

Ichigo wished he could see who or what was bringing him to orgasm on a nearly nightly basis, but since he couldn't, it led him to believe that the invisible being was merely a figment of his overactive and lonesome imagination.

_But then, there was the voice_.

That husky baritone stoked the flames of his libido, distracted the hell out of him during the daylight hours and made his body sing with anticipation during the evening ones. Ichigo didn't know who the man was, where he had come from, what he wanted – _aside from having sex with him_ – but he did know that he enjoyed every moment spent with him. The man listened to him and let him vent his feelings before thoroughly making love to him and kissing away all the pain. Afterward, the man would lay with him – Ichigo could always feel the warmth of his invisible body lying beside him – until Ichigo fell asleep.

In the morning, the man was never there. His comforting heat was always gone, but there would be subtle clues to his presence, like the sheets on the other side of Ichigo's queen-sized, western-styled bed being rumpled, the faint smell of fresh air, trees and musk lingering on his second pillow and sometimes even small hickeys would be littering his pelvic area. Ichigo constantly found himself wishing that his invisible lover would stay with him, but then again, he was only a physical illusion.

_Heard and felt, but never seen_.

_Such a tease_.

Ichigo blushed and blew out an exasperated breath, his heart aching a bit. He had unwisely started falling for the invisible man that went by the name "Grimmjow" and his foolish decision was only resulting in his suffering. He'd never had someone listen to him without saying he was whining or being spoiled and selfish and he'd never had his body absolutely worshiped during sex before. Whenever he'd engaged in the act, it had been mindless, most times rough and unsatisfying, but this invisible man made him feel like the sun rose and set on him. It was such a reassuring and wholesome feeling, but...in the end, Ichigo was still alone.

His booted feet clomped against the cement sidewalk as he made his way home, the only other noises coming from chirping crickets and cars passing in the distance. He was starting to regret even having agreed to going out for the night with his friends. Inoue and her boyfriend, Chado, had invited everyone over to watch a movie and have dinner. Ichigo had passed on the dinner option, knowing Inoue was notorious for her outlandish food choices, but had consented to the movie. After arriving and realizing which film they would be watching, he'd wished otherwise.

He would never admit to anyone that The Ring gave him the creeps, especially when that frightening little girl climbed out of the TV at the end. That shit always gave him nightmares and just thinking back on it had him remorseful over his decision of declining a ride home from Rukia and Uryuu. Ichigo picked up his pace and worried his lip ring, heart pounding slowly and strongly.

_Fucking movie_.

_He couldn't believe such a thing had him so high-strung_.

A cat yowled in the distance and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as he paused his long-legged stride to look around and survey his surroundings. Everything had suddenly gone quiet and it gave him goosebumps. It also gave him a deep sense of foreboding, making his skin crawl and his flesh shudder. He continued the short trip home, shooting nervous glances over his shoulder every few seconds. He knew if it came down to the wire, he could take care of himself in a pinch, but he was still a bit nervous of being taken advantage of.

_He was so distracted_.

His thoughts kept straying to the invisible man with the addictive voice. Grimmjow. Ichigo remembered asking the man his name one of the nights Grimmjow had come to visit. The man had chuckled, his deep voice rumbling like an earthquake before he quietly told him his name. Ichigo had instantly liked it, letting it slide over his tongue teasingly as he'd said it for the first time. Grimmjow had obviously liked the way it sounded coming from him because his love-making had been more intense and a lot more aggressive that night.

Before Ichigo knew it, he was climbing the stairs to his apartment building and fishing in his pocket for his keys. They jangled softly as he found the right key and stuck it into the lock, twisting it and pushing the steel gray door open. He eased into his home and immediately kicked his boots off, lethargically making his way to his kitchen for a glass of water.

He was grateful to make it home safely after the tension his imagination had put him through. He flicked on the kitchen light and grabbed a glass from the cabinet over the stainless steel sink, sliding over to the fridge, where he extracted his glass pitcher filled with filtered water. He topped off the glass and downed the water in a few gulps.

_He hadn't realized he'd been that thirsty_.

Ichigo glanced at the clock on the stove and pressed his lips together. 11:44 pm. He wasn't even remotely tired, but he wouldn't deny that he was mostly anxious to get to bed to see if Grimmjow would visit him. Even though it had been almost a month since he'd had a visit from the man, he still wanted to ask Grimmjow why he wasn't visible and why he kept coming to him. Ichigo needed answers, so he trudged from the kitchen, absently shutting off the light and made his way to his bedroom, mind intent on getting those answers. He didn't even bother turning on the light since the moon was doing a good job of illuminating the small space. It mostly spot-lighted his oversized bed, making his pale green sheet and comforter seem stark white in the pearlescent glow.

Ichigo went to his dresser and retrieved a pair of gray boxer briefs, holding them in the air for a minute before changing his mind and dropping the underwear back into the drawer. He stripped out of his clothes and shoved off to the bathroom, completely naked. He stopped in front of the sink and stared at his reflection, taking note of how pathetic he appeared.

_He hated feeling so damned alone_.

Yeah, he had friends and family, but he always felt like they were handling him with kid gloves and dancing around him like he was a bomb on the verge of exploding. His mind gave him no relief and no rest as he sighed and grabbed his toothbrush from the black, metal holder. He turned on the faucet and squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste onto the gray toothbrush before holding it under the water, then bringing it to his mouth and scrubbing free the grime of the day.

His head was beginning to ache, but not as much as his heart. _How had he found himself in such a predicament? In love with a man that he wasn't even really sure existed or not_. Ichigo shook his head in disgust as he scoured his tongue with the brush, the minty paste making his eyes water and his nose tingle. _Even though he knew his heart was a lost cause, he still couldn't bring himself to NOT anticipate Grimmjow's visits, his love-making_.

_Fuck_.

_Who the hell was he kidding?_

_He craved the man's touch like a pregnant woman craved food_.

Ichigo spit the excess toothpaste into the sink and rinsed his mouth with blue mouthwash, the liquid making his tongue burn and sting like vodka. Afterward, he brought the shower to life, adjusting the temperature before climbing in and just standing under the soothing spray.

He didn't really know what to do with himself and it pissed him off. He wasn't used to loving anyone other than his family and the fact that he loved a figment of his imagination made him feel like the lowest life form on Earth. He felt almost like a pedophile: vile and wrong. His hands unconsciously formed fists and he banged them forcefully against the white, tiled shower wall repeatedly, anger at his situation overwhelming him, leaving him vulnerable and exposed.

Tears bred from rage crept down the sides of his cheeks. He felt so helpless, like a fish dangling from a hook. _What the hell did Grimmjow want from him? Why had he chosen him? And why hadn't he shown up in over three weeks?_ It was so fucking frustrating, he wanted to scream and turn his throat into a useless tube of raw flesh. Gritting his teeth and closing his eyes, his incessant pounding finally stopped as he sagged against the shower wall. His breathing had escalated, his chest heaving as he blankly stared at the glaring white of the small cubicle.

He was suddenly exhausted.

Ichigo exhaled noisily and reached for his shampoo bottle. He drenched his hair and watched as swirls of black circled the drain and ran in streams down his legs, over his shoulders and across his torso. The black, spray-on hair dye that he used to streak his hair was convenient, which was why he used it. He wasn't sure he wanted his bright orange hair permanently streaked with black, so while he took his time deciding, he utilized the spray.

Ichigo shampooed his hair and washed himself before shutting off the water and climbing out of the shower. He lazily ran a towel over his hair and body, uncaring of whether he was completely dry or not before dragging his way back into his bedroom, where he flopped onto the bed, legs hanging over the side and toes brushing the plush, off-white carpet on the floor. He didn't even bother throwing on any pajamas or underwear. He was suddenly too tired and very satisfied with his current position.

_Actually_...

Ichigo pulled himself all the way onto the bed and burrowed under the comforter, digging the side of his face into his soft, dark-green pillow. His eyes drifted shut and within minutes he was asleep.

**XxxxxxX**

"Lover." Ichigo scowled in his sleep, turning towards the enchanting voice, wondering who was disturbing his rest. A soft chuckle floated into the silence before silky, moist lips were pressed against his temple. "Lover."

Ichigo blinked open his eyes and squinted into the semi-darkness of his bedroom. He found the clock on his nightstand first and noted the time. 2:23 am. He tried to roll over and realized that he couldn't, something heavy, warm and solid weighing him down against the mattress. He grunted and peered over his shoulder, freezing when a broad, tanned and chiseled chest came into view. His heart rate soared and his breathing was abruptly cut off.

_What the hell?_

A strong-looking hand traced his shoulder while a set of familiar, soft but firm lips pressed against it gently. Ichigo spotted a shock of something blue in his peripheral and frowned, curiosity peaking.

_Who the hell was in his bed? Hell, how the fuck had they gotten into his house to begin with?_

Ichigo licked his lips uneasily and swallowed thickly before finally speaking, his voice croaking. "Wh-who the hell are you?" he asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

A deep chortle resonated through that amazing chest pressed against his back and made his heart tremble. "Hoh? You've already forgotten me, lover?"

Ichigo's eyes went wide as he gripped the arm wrapped around his waist. He knew this voice, but...it couldn't be _him_.

_He_ had always been invisible.

Suddenly, Ichigo registered the presence of a thick, straining length against his bare bottom and he tucked his lips between his teeth in an effort not to moan. _That unmistakable piece of flesh was undeniable_ ; _he definitely knew its owner_. He slowly allowed air into his lungs through his nose, his body shuddering involuntarily as the hand that had been caressing his shoulder, moved lower and slid over his hip, gliding over his rear.

He couldn't take it anymore. The man behind him was very solid and very visible and if he was indeed Grimmjow, then Ichigo wanted – no, he _needed_ – to see him. Prying himself free from the iron grip around his waist, he finally turned over to see what he'd been wondering about ever since Grimmjow's first visit.

When he did turn, it took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust to the darkness of the bedroom, but they soon picked up the light spilling through his bedroom window and illuminated the most alluring man Ichigo had ever seen in his life. The shock of blue he'd spotted had been the man's hair. It was bright blue, his sharp eyebrows matching perfectly, but what truly mesmerized Ichigo was the man's deep, atmospheric blue eyes. Ultramarine, aquamarine, cerulean, azure, cyan, sapphire...all those adjectives that fell pathetically short of describing the amazing orbs gazing down at him.

A straight nose led to those perfect lips that Ichigo knew so well and that, incidentally, knew Ichigo so well. The man's face was angular and framed by long, unruly sideburns, the chin pointed, the jaw strong. His neck was thickly corded and sloped into broad shoulders that looked able to carry the weight of the entire world without strain. Ichigo's eyes roved over his absolutely flawless torso, greedily devouring the sight of beautifully carved pectorals and a deliciously hewn abdomen. The V guiding the way to his pelvic area seemed like it was cut in stone and the peek of fine, dark blue hair trailing beneath the blanket only heightened his senses.

Everything combined left Ichigo positively speechless, breathless, mouth hanging open and all.

Another deep chuckle sounded and Ichigo whipped his head up to focus on those arresting eyes, his face igniting as he realized he'd been openly staring. The blue-haired man lifted his left hand and lightly stroked the side of Ichigo's face, making the brilliant blush deepen and itensify. "I've missed you," he rumbled, his familiar, gravelly voice nearly sending Ichigo into a fit.

Almost a month he'd gone without Grimmjow's touch, his scent, his warmth, his mind-numbing love-making and at long last... _here he was_. Despite the delay, Ichigo's body immediately succumbed to Grimmjow's overwhelming presence, plastering itself to the bigger man with a needy urgency. Ichigo didn't even recognize his own voice when he said, "Where the hell have you been?"

Grimmjow arched a blue brow. "I thought the first thing you'd ask would be why you could see me. I worked hard to have it happen, after all."

Ichigo pressed his lips into a thin line. That was what he'd _meant_ to ask, but all coherent thought had left the premises upon seeing the man. "I-I was gonna ask that, but..." Ichigo's voice trailed off as Grimmjow smirked, his lips curving up and revealing straight, dazzling white teeth.

"It's OK."

Ichigo scowled. "Why _can_ I see you?" he asked, his head shaking slightly as he wondered at the answer.

Grimmjow blew out a breath and glanced up at the ceiling. "That's a rather long story. Are you sure you want to hear it?" Ichigo gave the man a look that clearly relayed his reply and Grimmjow smirked, the devilish grin turning into laughter. "Fine, fine. I suppose I should start a few years ago when I saw you for the first time. I was still alive at the time."

Ichigo stared in disbelief as the implications of Grimmjow's words sunk in.

_What?_

_No wait_... _what?_

"What do you mean 'you were still alive at the time'?" Ichigo asked, officially stumped.

Grimmjow kissed his nose and smiled before turning onto his back and bringing Ichigo with him, positioning him on his chest as he wrapped those thick arms securely around him. "I wasn't exactly alive when I first started coming to you. I was a ghost, a spirit."

Ichigo gaped stupidly, refusing to believe what he was hearing. He didn't even believe in ghosts and here Grimmjow was telling him that he had actually been one. _How was he supposed to respond to that? Was the man he had fallen hopelessly in love with a few matches short of a book?_ Ichigo peered down at him, mouth dry and heart jumping around in his chest, while Grimmjow just lay there, giving him a devastating smirk.

"I-I don't-" Ichigo started, trying to sort through the mess his thoughts had become.

Grimmjow placed a long finger against Ichigo's lips, shushing him softly. "Let me explain, yeah?" Ichigo merely nodded, unable to do much more. "I died a few years ago during an attempted robbery. I'd been closing up at the diner where I used to work and as I went out back to dump the trash, I noticed a young girl being accosted by a seemingly crazed man. He'd either been high or under the influence of something, but I couldn't have just stood by and let him hurt the girl. So, I intervened," Grimmjow sighed and closed his eyes. "The man had a rather large knife and before I could even defend myself, he'd stabbed me several times in the stomach and chest. The girl was able to get away, though."

Ichigo's mouth dropped open. He was horrified, but not only that, he knew the girl that Grimmjow was talking about. She had come home crying hysterically about a man that had tried to rob and probably rape her. Then, she had gone on to explain how she'd only gotten away because another man had come along to help her.

_Yuzu_.

Ichigo's breath hitched in his throat as tears stung the backs of his eyes. Grimmjow had indirectly given his life for his younger sister. "Y-you...that was my little sister," he breathed.

Grimmjow nodded as he opened his eyes, the deep blue serene. "I realized it afterward."

Ichigo frowned a bit, slightly confused. "How did-"

"I told you I saw you while I was alive. What I didn't tell you was that I had been interested in you for some time. You used to come into the diner everyday in the morning and in the evening; you would order a hot chocolate and plain bagel with cream cheese in the morning and a root beer float and french fries in the evening. I never served you, but I did see you and I always thought you were the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I never had the courage to talk to you, though. Call it fear, apprehension, I don't care. I was just terrified that I would approach you and you wouldn't want to be bothered," Grimmjow carefully relayed, while Ichigo listened with bated breath and widened eyes. "Before I could even convince myself to speak to you, I was killed. After I died, I was sent to a place that seemed like an entirely different world, only everyone there were spirits. It's called Soul Society."

It was so astonishing hearing about someone that had cherished his presence, even without his knowledge. Ichigo had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know about his blue-haired lover, but one thing shot to the forefront. "What's it like to die?" Ichigo asked, throat unbelievably tight.

Grimmjow quirked his lips and looked at the ceiling. "Like falling asleep," he finally said. Ichigo scowled. _That was it? Well, that was rather anti-climactic_. Grimmjow must have noticed his crestfallen expression because he chuckled, the throaty sound reverberating through his chest and into Ichigo's. "It was painful for me at first, but gradually, everything grew numb and it truly was like falling asleep, only a thousand times more powerful," he continued.

Ichigo grunted and lowered his gaze to Grimmjow's tawny nipples as he formed his next question. "So, supposing this is real and you were really sent to a place called Soul Society, how did you come back here? Around the living."

"I broke a few rules." Ichigo raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, waiting for Grimmjow to elaborate. "As a spirit, we're sent to different sections of a whole. Imagine a country with its many cities and whatnot, and you'll have an idea of what Soul Society is. Truthfully, I had no idea I was dead at first, it was that hard to tell the difference from there and here. Of course, things were less modernized, but it felt like I was living in the country.

"Anyway, there are these gates that the guardians – or shinigami, as they call themselves – use to pass between Soul Society and the Living World. They're called Senkaimon." Grimmjow paused as if waiting for a response from him, but all Ichigo could do was stare back blankly, enthralled at what he was hearing. It sounded like one of those bedtime stories that older people tell to children. Grimmjow sighed quietly and went on. "Well, I happened to stumble upon one of these gates one day, but I was never able to pass through it. There was some type of process the shinigami went through to access the Living World and I didn't know it. However, I went to the door everyday, faithfully, trying different words and gestures that might be used to open the damned door, but it never opened. Once I 'd figured out that I was dead, I'd been pissed because I never had the chance to tell you how I felt. I was determined to get back to the Living World in order to do so, after I found out about the Senkaimon.

"So, I haunted the area near the Senkaimon that I knew of and finally, my diligence paid off. A pair of shinigami came to use the Senkaimon and amazingly, the door had been left open and I was able to pass through it. I don't know if something had gone wrong that day and frankly, I didn't give a shit. I made it through and immediately began looking for you.

"It didn't take me long since all I had to do was go back to the diner and wait for you to arrive. After that, I followed you home. For the first few nights, all I did was watch you, still afraid to do anything. I'd figured out that you couldn't see me when I'd accidentally bumped you. Surprisingly, what baffled me was the fact that I'd been able to touch you. I experimented after that and realized that you could hear and feel me, you just couldn't _see_ me."

Ichigo had the urge to run and make a bag of popcorn so he could hunker down and really enjoy Grimmjow's tale. It was just like a movie and had him thoroughly engrossed. Ichigo had made himself comfortable on the bigger man's chest by resting his chin in his hands as his elbows nestled beside Grimmjow's ribcage. The entire time Grimmjow had been speaking, Ichigo had been watching, unblinking, and mouth slightly parted.

As Ichigo thought about what Grimmjow had just told him, henna eyes widened incredulously. He remembered running into objects that didn't seem to be there and hearing noises that had made his friends look at him like he was truly losing his mind. "That was you?" he accusingly inquired, head popping up off his hands.

Grimmjow gave him a wolfish grin and Ichigo brought his closed fist down on the man's rock-solid chest. It wasn't enough to actually hurt the blue-haired man, but it was enough to make him grunt. "I had to know!" Grimmjow defended, laughing as he rubbed the spot Ichigo had abused.

"I thought I was fucking going crazy!"

"Heh, sorry, lover."

Ichigo warmed remarkably at the endearment and returned to his previous position of resting his chin in his hands, trying unsuccessfully to hide his smile. Grimmjow sobered and let his head fall back against Ichigo's pillow, his bright blue hair standing out against the dark green material. Sighing, he continued where he'd left off. "A few nights of watching you and experimenting with the barriers between us, I finally revealed myself to you, so to speak. I'll never forget how you felt for the first time," he murmured wistfully.

Ichigo blushed furiously and glanced down at Grimmjow's chest, trying to hide his reaction. "So, how can I see you now? You said you had to work hard for it to happen," he diverted.

Grimmjow nodded. "I got caught a few weeks ago, your time. A couple shinigami found out that I had left Soul Society and came after me. They found me right after I'd finished visiting with you for the last time and took me back. I didn't fight them since I knew I'd broken the rules, but I didn't want to leave you. I'd finally gotten close to you and the bitterness of the situation was too hard for me to swallow. I hated the fact that I'd waited until I was dead to do all the things I'd only dreamed of doing to you."

"What did they do to you?" Ichigo asked breathlessly, hoping that nothing too serious had happened to his blue-haired lover.

"They brought me before the council and put me on trial." Ichigo blanched, his heart momentarily stopping. He just couldn't stand the idea of Grimmjow being punished because of him. "Don't worry, it turned out OK," Grimmjow reassured. "It took weeks of sitting in a cell and performing strenuous tasks while under supervision before I was finally able to see the council, but once I did, they realized that my heart was tethered to the Living World (meaning you) and that that was the reason I'd been able to use the Senkaimon after the shinigami. The council leader gave me a pardon only because I'd given my life for another, allowing me to return to the Living World. Those that I encountered on a daily basis had their memories wiped clean of my death and now, I essentially have a second chance at life."

Ichigo stared.

And then he stared some more.

He was absolutely speechless. Grimmjow had just confessed to Ichigo being the reason that his heart had been unable to leave the Living World, so to speak. He was immensely flattered, but he was also on the verge of swooning like a fan-girl. He'd never had someone speak so freely of their feelings for him unless the feelings were negative, so the change was breathtaking.

"I don't understand why," Ichigo mumbled, his head shaking back and forth in puzzlement as he tried to make sense of everything that Grimmjow had told him.

Grimmjow ran a hand down the side of Ichigo's cheek before leaning forward to kiss him softly. As if reading his thoughts, Grimmjow tilted his head to the side as their eyes locked, luminescent blue and pudding-soft maple. "Why? I don't know. Why does anyone fall in love, Ichigo?"

_He didn't have an answer for that_.

"Will you trust me with your heart, Ichigo?" Grimmjow inquired, eyes almost desperate.

_How long had Grimmjow felt this way about him?_ Ichigo was thoroughly confused, but he refused to question the man about it. He wasn't about to look this gift-horse in the mouth; he was extremely lucky to have someone as gorgeous and as assertively passionate as Grimmjow caring about him.

Ichigo regarded the man underneath him for only a moment more before leaning forward and capturing his lips in a tender kiss. It was brief, but deep and full of desire. When he pulled back and his gaze met Grimmjow's, he smiled, truly happy for the first time in a very long time. "Baka. I already do," he chided quietly and without heat.

Grimmjow cracked what had to be his most charming smile and leaned up, cupping the back of Ichigo's neck as he connected their lips. Ichigo melted into him, his body immediately responding to Grimmjow's touch and kiss.

_There was something about the man that was just terribly intoxicating and he knew he would never get_ _enough_.

Grimmjow growled and rolled Ichigo onto his back before fluidly turning him onto his side and lifting his slender leg into the air. Ichigo's eyes went incredibly wide as he realized that Grimmjow was having one of his domineeringly impatient nights. Ichigo leaned over the side of the bed and fumbled in his nightstand for the bottle of lube he kept there, a moan crawling its way free from his chest as Grimmjow teased his entrance with the pad of his thumb.

Grimmjow leaned forward and dropped soft kisses along the nape of Ichigo's neck, which happened to be extremely sensitive. Ichigo shuddered helplessly and grasping the bottle of lube in his palm, pressed himself back against Grimmjow's miraculous chest. He turned his head and using his mouth, searched for his lover's firm lips, a light mewl escaping him. He was so eager to be touched, but this time he would completely enjoy the _sight_ of himself being ravished.

Grimmjow wound a hand around Ichigo's ribcage and pulled him closer, his hot mouth attaching itself to Ichigo's and utterly claiming it, his tongue immediately sliding inside and sending hot sparks shooting along Ichigo's nerve endings. Ichigo almost whined in desperation. Now, he was just as impatient as his blue-haired lover. It had been entirely too long since the last time they had joined this way and he absolutely couldn't wait.

Breaking the drugging kiss, Ichigo pulled his swollen lips away. "Fill me," he whispered into the near silence, relishing the sound of their harsh breathing.

Grimmjow made a needy noise and gently took the lube from him. The sound of the cap opening served only to escalate Ichigo's anticipation and anxiety. He fit himself even closer to the man he had fallen so hard for and waited for the inevitable. Grimmjow didn't disappoint and soon had a slick finger circling his entrance as his lips descended once more.

The kiss was frantic and wet, the noises deliciously erotic. Just as Ichigo felt like he could wait no longer, Grimmjow slid a long finger inside of him. Ichigo's back arched dramatically and a loud gasp spilled from his lips as his eyes slid shut. He rolled his hips, seeking more and Grimmjow exhaled noisily through his nose.

Again, Ichigo broke the kiss. "More," he panted, his left arm coming up to plow through the silken blue strands of his lover's hair. "Please, more."

Grimmjow obliged, moving his finger in and out a few times before carefully adding another. Ichigo moaned as the friction built, but he still needed more. He wanted to be filled to the brim and the only way that that could happen was if Grimmjow himself was inside of him.

His body was on fire from head to toe and back and he was enjoying every second of it. He was so engrossed in the soft stretching and pulling sensations, he didn't realize Grimmjow had added a third finger until his prostate was stimulated, making a wave of lust overcome him. "Oh!" he cried, tilting his hips to meet the thrusts of Grimmjow's wicked fingers.

Grimmjow growled again and nipped the shell of his ear. "Lover," he murmured.

_He didn't even need to say anything more_.

Ichigo knew what Grimmjow wanted and he was only more than happy to tend to the other man's needs. He reached behind him and aggressively gripped Grimmjow's unyielding length, squeezing firmly and drawing a deep groan from the former ghost. Ichigo started a swift stroking and loved the way Grimmjow's breath caught before it left him in short gasps. The warmth of it huffed against Ichigo's ear and neck and made him all too eager to get where they both wanted Grimmjow to be: inside of him.

Ichigo rocked his hips against Grimmjow's fingers as he maneuvered the lube from Grimmjow's hand with his free one, then poured a generous amount of the clear substance into his palm. He covered his lover's member with the cool liquid, savoring the small gasp it drew before whispering softly, "Now, Grimmjow."

"Anything you wish, lover."

Grimmjow smoothly removed his fingers, the pulling sensation cresting like a small wave, and positioned himself at Ichigo's entrance as he lifted Ichigo's leg higher into the air. When he pressed forward strongly, Ichigo had to bite down on his pillow to keep from screaming.

_Kami, he'd missed this_.

Grimmjow moaned, his deep voice sending shock waves through Ichigo. The stretching was almost unbearable for a brief moment and just when Ichigo thought he would cry out from the shock of the initial penetration (it was always like that with Grimmjow), Grimmjow stopped moving, having deeply seated himself inside of him.

Ichigo felt his body relax and his grip on his pillow gradually loosened. They lay like that for a minute, taking in the feel of the other's body before Grimmjow was again on the move. His hips pulled away from Ichigo's bottom, only to propel forward again, impaling Ichigo like meat on a skewer.

With his leg hoisted into the air that way, Ichigo felt every single movement, every slide and every twitch. Grimmjow was so deep and his length so thick, it rubbed against Ichigo's insides mercilessly. "F-fuck," he whispered to himself.

Grimmjow shifted his weight and made himself more comfortable before settling into a brisk rhythm. The room was soon filled with urgent moans and harsh pants; the sound of skin coming together, fleshy and damp. Ichigo could do nothing but moan and enjoy the abysmal thrusts Grimmjow provided.

_Kami, it was so good_.

All of a sudden, Grimmjow left his spot behind Ichigo and hooked the leg that had been waving in the air around his neck. He slid Ichigo's other leg up, his hand clamping down on the junction behind the knee, and rolled himself on top of Ichigo.

_Wow_.

"AH!" was all his brain supplied as Grimmjow started stroking again. The thrusts were strong and fervent, deep and complete. It was like Ichigo had an itch deep inside and Grimmjow was scratching it with a deadly precision. "Oh, fucking kami! Please!"

Grimmjow grunted a few times in succession before using the hand that had been holding onto Ichigo's knee to send Ichigo teetering along the edge of Orgasm Canyon. Grimmjow had wrapped long fingers around Ichigo's erection and was stroking it quickly, squeezing with every upstroke.

Ichigo gasped and panted, incapable of forming words. His fingers were clutching the bedsheets so tightly, they were almost transparent. Ichigo felt like Mt. Vesuvius had given him a blood transfusion and he couldn't breathe because Grimmjow kept knocking the air from his lungs with every forceful invasion.

"Lover," Grimmjow gasped. Ichigo thought it was a bad time to wonder why Grimmjow kept calling him that. "Kami," the blue-haired man continued, voice rough and sensual in the throes of passion.

Ichigo lifted heavy arms to lock around Grimmjow's neck, his eyes hooded as he watched the man moving within him, watched that magnificent abdomen rippling and shifting. Grimmjow's insertions became frantic and more forceful as he was pushed closer and closer to release. Ichigo arched his back when Grimmjow gently tugged his arousal, while simultaneously stimulating his prostate. The carnal rubbing soon became too much for him and Ichigo found his hips leaving the bed as his entire body tensed, coiled and ready to snap.

Grimmjow rammed into him again and it was enough to send him careening head-first into that Orgasm Canyon with a loud wail. Thick jets of semen erupted from his straining length and onto his belly. White spots and static filled his senses as he rode the waves of his climax, body still tensed and humming like an engine. During this, he faintly registered Grimmjow tensing as well before finally spearing him one last time. Grimmjow rocked into him, thrusts shallow and short, until his body ultimately stopped moving.

Ichigo felt his body turn into thick molasses as he collapsed against his pillow, his arms still wound tightly around the blue-haired man above him. Grimmjow lowered himself over Ichigo and buried his face into his neck, sighing loudly, his breathing still erratic and warming Ichigo's collarbone.

Ichigo's mind had gone fuzzy and numb with satisfaction, but he managed to coerce Grimmjow into lifting his head so he could look into those impossibly blue eyes. "I don't know why you decided to love me, but I'm glad you did," he murmured, fingers absently toying with Grimmjow's silky, bright blue locks.

Grimmjow grinned, teeth dazzling in the dark of the bedroom. He obviously didn't care that he was laying in the evidence of their passion, so Ichigo decided not to mention it. Sweat covered his lover's brow, but he was still disgustingly beautiful. "Me too," Grimmjow replied, voice a thick burr, husky and intimate.

Ichigo, already flushed, felt his face burn with renewed crimson. "I love you, Grimmjow," he said shyly, wanting to hide his face in the other man's chest.

Grimmjow nodded and kissed his nose. "I know, lover."


End file.
